


It Only Takes A Taste

by you_get_to_exhale_now_cyrus



Category: Andi Mack (TV)
Genre: Baking, Cooking Competition, Fluff, M/M, a little bit of angst? maybe?, idk yet
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-01-24
Updated: 2019-02-15
Packaged: 2019-10-15 08:24:43
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 3
Words: 7,878
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17525228
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/you_get_to_exhale_now_cyrus/pseuds/you_get_to_exhale_now_cyrus
Summary: A bunch of kids from Utah compete in the annual Kids Baking Championship. Between difficult challenges, silly moments of fun, and everything in between, they start to form bond between each other. Kids that would never have interacted form friendships so strong; it only takes a taste to know that someone will be a part of your life for a long time.





	1. Cookies

“Alright, c’mon look alive. Don’t worry about the lights being too bright, you’ll get used to it,”

Eight kids were herded into a huge room, decked out with all the latest kitchen appliances, and more sprinkles than even the most skilled mathematician could count. A few were bouncing on their feet, feeling a surge of adrenaline spike through their bodies. One was standing in the back, keeping his head down and mumbling things under his breath. Two girls could not stop squealing about how excited they were.

“Okay, in three, two, one, let’s get rolling!”

Two adults with big smiles burst through the doors, causing all the children to erupt in applause and cheers.

“Welcome, everyone, to the kids baking championship,” the lady exclaimed, clapping her hands together, “we’re your hosts, Veronica and Drew, and we are so excited to see you all here!”

“As you know,” Drew started, “we have searched all around the state for the best kid bakers, and we’re selected you all for your outstanding creations. Throughout the coming weeks, you will all be faced with challenges designed to test your skills as a baker. And, at the end, one of you will be crowned the champion,”

“And let’s not forget that the winner gets,” Veronica paused, as all the kids created the effect of a drumroll as they drummed their hands against their thighs, “ten thousand dollars!”

The kids erupted into applause again, a few of them screaming and shaking the person next to them.

“Aren’t you excited?” a boy with dark brown hair said, turning around to face a girl with a head of curls, and a boy with perfectly coiffed blond hair.

“I’m here to win,” she responded, crossing her arms smugly, “what with all my experience, it should be pretty easy,”

The boy shrunk a little at that, toying with the hem of his apron. Maybe he wasn’t cut out for this.

“I’m so excited to be here,” the blonde boy cut in, smiling so wide that it reached his eyes, “I’m TJ, by the way,”

“Cyrus,” the shorter boy greeted, turning his attention to the judges.

“For today’s challenge, we want you to make a dozen cookies, using the ingredient that each of you have been given,” Drew explained, “you all have a card at your stations, and when we say go, you’ll have ninety minutes to bake and decorate your cookies,”

A hush fell over the group of kids, the gears turning in their minds.

“And cut! Alright, back into the interview rooms, please,”

Drew and Veronica pointed the kids towards the room, and the each stood in line, waiting to be interviewed. Cyrus made sure to try and stick close to TJ.

“Hi, I’m Buffy, I’m fourteen years old. I live in in Murray, Utah,” she started, smiling, “I’ve been baking ever since I could walk. I’ve baked things for my school bake sales, birthday parties, and on the weekends at my sleepovers. I think that I’m going to be the kids baking champion because I’ve got the heart, and the sweet thumb,” she said, giving the camera a thumbs up.

TJ and Cyrus peered through the window, watching her interview. They couldn’t hear anything, but they could see her moving her lips.

“Are you guys nervous?” a girl from behind piped up, jumping up to try and see what was happening in the little room.

“Not really,” TJ replied, “I mean, this is just for fun, right?”

“I guess,” she replied, “I’m Andi,”

“TJ,” he greeted, offering her a smile, “and this is Cyrus,” he added, pointing to the boy next to him.

“Next!” the man inside called, ushering the small girl inside.

“Oh, uh, hi, I’m Andi. I’m fourteen years old I’m from Beaver, Utah,” she started, kicking her legs under the stool that she sat on, “I love baking things for my friends for their birthdays. If I win the competition, I’m going to convince my parents to get me a dog,” she giggled, smiling for the first time that day.

The day went on, each of the kids going inside and doing their mini interview for the pilot episode of the show. TJ talked about basketball, Cyrus mentioned that he wanted to buy a pool table, Jonah said something about getting uniforms for his frisbee team, and the rest of the day went by in a blur. By the time they were all done, it was nearly noon and time to start the first round.

All the kids waited at their stations, nervously tapping their fingers against the tables. Andi’s heart was in her throat, and she could practically feel herself seizing up. Cyrus focused on his breathing, shutting his eyes. A red-haired boy named Gus tapped his feet anxiously, awaiting the cue.

“Alright bakers, you have ninety minutes to make and decorate a dozen cookies with your given ingredient,” Veronica started, “and your time starts. . .now!”

Anticipation filled the air, as the kids tore open their envelopes to reveal what ingredient they’d been give.

“I got cinnamon!” Andi shouted, scampering over to the spices to grab it quickly, before she started to make anything.

“I have peanut butter!” Buffy exclaimed, taking out a few bowls from underneath of her station.

“I have. . .macadamia nuts,” Cyrus mumbled, shaking his head. He was not fond of macadamia nuts, and he was really not looking forward to tasting it when he made his cookies.

“Coffee beans?” TJ questioned, reading over the words again to make sure that he didn’t misread it. Yup, it said coffee beans. He felt all his knowledge of baking fall out of his brain and onto the floor; it was like he was in the kitchen for the first time. People around him were grabbing ingredients left and right, and he just stood there frozen.

“TJ, what are you making?” Cyrus asked, leaning over from his station, “TJ?”

“Oh, uh, something with coffee,” he mumbled, pulling out bowls and whisks at random, “I have no idea what I’m going to do,” he admitted, starting to put together the basics of a cookie dough, “what are you making?”

“Something with macadamia nuts,” he said with low enthusiasm, but TJ perked up at that.

“Those are my favorite! They go really well with blueberries,” he advised, turning the mixer up to a higher speed.

Cyrus brightened, hurrying over to the fridge and grabbing a carton of blueberries. “Thanks,” he smiled, cutting them up into halves as his dough mixed, “maybe you could brew some coffee and turn it into a glaze?”

TJ’s whole face lit up, scooping out some of the beans and walking over to the coffee machine. “You’re the best,” he called out, turning on the machine.

Cyrus ducked his head, scooping his cookie dough out of his machine. The camera man in front of him tried to capture whatever expression was on his face, but Cyrus kept his face down until the man moved away to see what Buffy was doing. She replied with the utmost confidence, always smiling, always standing proudly.

“Bakers, you have just one hour left! Make sure you have enough time for your cookies to cool before you decorate them!”

Andi groaned, rolling out her dough and cutting them into rounds. She couldn’t find the cookie cutter, so she went for cutting them out freehand with a knife. They weren’t perfectly even, but they were going to have to do.

“Does anyone have the sanding sugar?” a girl named Natalie called.

“I’ve got it,” a blonde boy by the name of Reed replied, rushing over and nearly dropping it on his way there.

Cyrus looked around; it was nearly pure chaos. Under the bright lights and time restraints, he felt more stressed than he ever had. Baking was usually something that brought him peace, but this seemed to do the opposite. After he put his cookies in the oven, he breathed a sigh of relief.

That feeling didn’t last long.

“Oh, _bakers_!” Veronica drawled, walking out, “you know what cookies go great with? Milk,” she said, “but we don’t want to have to wash dishes. We want you to make two edible cups out of your cookie dough!”

TJ slammed his fist against the table, pushing aside his remaining dough. He tried his best to mold it into the shape of a cup; they looked. . .almost like cups. More like misshapen bowls that he’d made in pottery class.

Cyrus decided that making cups out of dough with nuts in it was not the easiest thing in the world. They were oddly misshapen, and nuts were jutting out from all sides. It would have to suffice, he supposed, as he placed them in the oven.

“This isn’t even that hard,” Buffy puffed, making two small cups that could probably hold a teaspoon on milk, “all you gotta do is bake them,”

Other kids scrambled to get their cups done. Things smelled like they were burning, which were probably Reed’s cookies considering he was wafting away smoke from his tray of cookies. Cyrus felt awful for him, and wanted to help, but he knew he had to focus on his own cookies.

“For my decoration, I’m going to try and make a brittle to put it on top,” he explained to the camera man in front of him. He really didn’t understand why people needed the cameras to be so close; what if he got flour, or worse, his caramel on it?

“Decorations, decorations,” Andi mumbled, perusing the pantry for something to top her cookies with. Spying the fondant and a rack of food colors, she grabbed the off the shelf, and hurried back to her work station.

If the viewers wanted a definition of hot mess, they could take a peek at Gus’ station. Flour was everywhere, there was no clean bowl, and nobody could actually see the table. He had cookies and the baked cup, but his station was an absolute mess.

“We’re getting down to the wire, bakers! Just ten minutes left!”

TJ puffed out a breath, his hands shaking a little as he spooned the glaze over the cookies. They were a little messy, admittedly, but he was satisfied with them. He peered over at Cyrus’ station, where he was tapping the tray on the counter to break the brittle. The pieces were misshapen, looking like broken glass, but he supposed that’s how a brittle was done. He’d never made one before.

“Get it on the plate!”

Cyrus could feel the beads of sweat trickling down the side of his face. His tongue was out, deep in concentration as his hands struggled to place all the shards of brittle on the cookies. He could hear the judges calling out the last few seconds, and with all the stress, their voices were muffled.

“Time’s up!”

Cyrus stepped back, putting his hands up and dabbing at his hairline. The last ninety minutes were a blur, and he could barely remember anything. The cameras cut, and the kids were ushered into a waiting room. One by one, they were picked to come to the judges to have their creations critiqued.

“So,” TJ started, taking a seat by Cyrus, “what brings you here?”

Cyrus scoffed, crossing his legs. “Probably the same thing that brings everyone here. I’m an alright baker and I wouldn’t mind winning some money,”

“Alright?” Jonah piped up, “we’re, like, the best in the state, dude! Don’t sell yourself short,”

Cyrus rolled his eyes, attention drawn to the door as soon as a man poked his head in. “Cyrus, you’re up,” he called, waving him towards him.

“Good luck man,” TJ said, clapping him on the back as Cyrus walked away. Andi sat nervously in one of the chairs. Reed was cursing under his breath; the judges noted that his cookies were burned, and he stormed out of the room before they finished judging. The producers planned to air this at the very beginning of the episode to reel in the viewers: typical.

* * *

“Cyrus, tell us what you made today,”

As Cyrus explained, he saw the judges reaching for a pitcher of milk to pour into his cookie mug. This was it; the moment of truth. He nearly held his breath; luckily, the cookie remained together, holding the milk. He breathed out, feeling his heart beat again.

“I think the only note would be that you could have toasted the macadamia nuts,” Drew said, with Veronica nodding beside him, “but I think that the blueberries and macadamia nuts was an interesting choice. It works really well,”

Cyrus made a mental note to thank TJ later.

* * *

“They _loved_ it!” Buffy exclaimed, walking back into the room, “was pretty much nothing but positivity,” she added, taking another seat on the couch.

“Are you always this high and mighty?” Reed was quick to jump in, raising his brows.

“You’re one to talk,” she snapped, “your cookies were burned,”

As the two of them continued to bicker back and forth, the other kids found themselves chatting amongst themselves. Andi and Natalie were hitting it off, and Gus joined in with them, all of them laughing about the mistakes that they made. Gus was flailing his arms wildly, sending Andi into a fit of giggles.

“How’d you do?” TJ asked Cyrus, leaning back in the couch.

“Alright,” he started, his face lighting up, “oh, thanks for the tip with the blueberries. They really loved it,”

“No worries,” he smiled, “oh, and thanks for the tip on the glaze. It was good, my hands were just shaking, so it didn’t look great,” he chuckled, running a hand through his hair. And if in that moment Cyrus wondered how soft his hair was, that thought didn’t exist but for a millisecond.

“I always think taste it the most important,” Cyrus mused, “like, sure it may not look great, but if it tastes good? I’m sold,”

“Exactly!” TJ agreed, giving the other boy a high five, “you know, you’re pretty cool,”

Cyrus rolled his eyes. “Mhm, sure. Try telling that to, like, everyone in my grade,”

“I would,” TJ challenged, a coy smile playing on his lips. Maybe this competition wasn’t going to be so stressful after all.

+

TJ was so wrong. As he stood in front of the judges, he’d never felt more stressed in his life. The lights seemed brighter than before, and it felt like when he was at the optometrist, his eyes dilated and the lights blinding. His hands were trembling by his sides, and the cameraman was getting ready to start filming. As they counted down, he felt something nudge his side. Cyrus gave him a smile and a thumbs up, and just like that, all his anxiety disappeared.

“Alright bakers,” Veronica started, “this week, we challenged you to make a dozen cookies, with a random ingredient that we assigned you. Good news first; two of you had outstanding flavors, as well as great presentation. And those bakers are,”

Everyone seemed to be holding their breaths. “Buffy,” she said, “. . .and Cyrus,”

Cyrus’ jaw dropped, quirking up into a smile as he bounced on his toes. “Way to go,” TJ whispered to him, smiling.

“Congrats to you both, you are both safe until the next week,” she continued, “a few other bakers did a pretty good job of balancing flavor and presentation, and are also safe. Those bakers are. . .Andi, TJ, Jonah, and Natalie,”

TJ breathed a sigh of relief, mumbling a quiet ‘thank you’ under his breath.

“Unfortunately, that leaves Gus and Reed in the bottom two. Please step forward,” Drew said, the two boys nervously taking a few steps up.

“It’s always hard to let someone go this early in the competition,” Veronica sighed, kneading her hands together, “but both of you had complications with your cookie cups, as well as your cookies. Gus, yours were too soft in the middle, and didn’t really hold up. Reed, your cookies were burned, and the cups crumbled as soon as we poured the milk in,”

“It’s unfortunate that we have to let one of you go,” Drew sighed, offering a sympathetic smile, “but the baker that will not be moving on is. . .Reed,”

His heart sunk. He felt like he was going to collapse to the floor; his knees were weak, and his chest was seizing up. The other kids came up around him offering hugs, until one of the directors whisked him away to another room for his exit interview.

“Great job, everyone! You’re all safe for another week! You guys can head back into the main room and relax for a while. We’ll see you tomorrow,”

The kids giddily left the room, a few of them gushing over how relieved they were to have made it past the first week.

“Congrats, seriously,” Jonah clapped Cyrus on the back, “I _told_ you that you were talented,”

Cyrus blushed softly at this, shaking his head. “Lucky win,” he mumbled, “but I’m so beat right now. All I want to do is take a nap,”

“I can’t even imagine what the next challenge is going to be,” TJ mused, rubbing his temples, “my powers tell me. . .something baked,”

Cyrus rolled his eyes. “Wow, a true magician. Who’s winning this competition, oh great and powerful one?”

TJ smirked, shutting his eyes and pretending to concentrate. “The results are murky, check back in a few days,”

Cyrus laughed, dusting some flour off of his shirt. “Do you use your powers in school too?”

TJ chuckled, albeit nervously. “If I did, I wouldn’t be struggling in some classes, would I?”

Cyrus shrugged. “Suppose not,” he added, skipping ahead to catch up with Andi and Gus.

TJ’s gaze lingered a moment longer on the boy. His hair looked kind of nice in the back, and his smile was pretty nice too. He shook his head; this was a competition. He was against all of these people; he was here to win, not to get distracted by boys with nice hair and pretty smiles.

This was going to be a long show.


	2. Cupcakes

“Cupcakes!” Veronica exclaimed, wheeling in what looked like a giant cupcake float.

The kids erupted into applause; all except for Gus, that was. Cupcakes were his least favorite dessert out of all of them, and even though he knew he was going to have to make them going into this challenge, he still dreaded it.

“For this challenge, we want you to make two dozen cupcakes, with a unique filling. You’ll all pick a piece of paper out of this container, and that’s what you need to incorporate into your desserts,”

One by one, the kids went up, plucked a piece of paper from the tub, and scurried back, eagerly reading the words and buzzing with ideas.

“Peaches!” Andi exclaimed, folding her piece of paper into a tiny crane as she waited for the rest of the kids.

“Ugh, grapefruit,” Jonah mumbled, “the most bitter of all the fruits,”

Buffy nudged TJ, a smirk on her face. “Hey, that’s you!” she whispered, turning away to laugh.

“Ha, ha, very funny,” he grumbled, walking up to grab a slip of paper, “lemons. Of course,”

And the rest of the kids went to pick theirs out of the bin. Natalie got pistachios, Buffy got cranberries and Gus got bananas Cyrus was last, so when he went up, he grabbed the last sheet of paper out of the bin, and opened it up eagerly. The smile quickly slipped off his face once he read the words.

Strawberries. The one thing he was allergic to.

Great.

 

“You all have two hours to bake and decorate your two dozen cupcakes. And, just like the float we have here, you need to arrange them in your own design on your platters. We are expecting the best,” Veronica told them.

“So, on your marks, get set, bake!”

Kids ran in all different directions, grabbing ingredient by the handful, and spilling a few in the process. A trail of pink sprinkles followed Andi back to her station, a trail of flour following Buffy to hers. Cyrus mindlessly started to put ingredients together, the cameras and the talking from the other kids just white noise. He managed to get his vanilla cupcakes in the oven, and then stared at the container of strawberries that was on his table. He reached for the gloves underneath his table and slipped them on.

“TJ, what are you making?”

“Lemon curd,” he called back, whisking furiously at a bubbling liquid in a pot, “what about you?”

“I-I have no idea,” he admitted, “I’m allergic to strawberries, so I can’t even taste anything,” he groaned, grabbing a knife and starting to chop up the berries, carefully. He vaguely knew how to make a jam; cut fruit, add sugar and some water, boil until done. It was simple enough, but Cyrus didn’t know how it was going to taste.

TJ turned off the heat on his stove, setting his curd aside and discreetly rushing over to Cyrus’s station. “Spoon,” he mumbled, fishing through utensils until he found one. He dipped it into the pot, tasting a little bit of the jam. His entire face melted into a smile.

“This is delicious!” he exclaimed, setting it down, “seriously, I feel bad that you’re allergic to this. Just add like a squeeze of lemon. I’ll get one for you,” he offered, hurrying back over to his station.

“Catch!” he called, tossing it over gently. Cyrus fumbled, trying to catch it, but ended up dropping it on his station.

“I got it. Thanks,” he replied, slicing it in half and giving it a squeeze into his jam. He peered back at TJ, who was taking his cupcakes out of the oven. Shoot. That reminded him. He’d forgotten to set a timer for the cupcakes! Slipping on some gloves, he opened the oven, only to be met by a wall of smoke. His cupcakes weren’t burned, per se, but they were brown. Way darker than they should be.

Lovely.

* * *

“I had it first, just give it back!” Buffy hissed, tugging on the cinnamon container, her knuckles lightening in color.

“I _said_ you could have it once I was done,” Natalie insisted, narrowing her eyes, “and besides, I had it first,”

“Did not,”

“Did too,”

Either one of them pulled too hard, or their grips loosened, because the next thing they knew, it was like a cloud of dirt had covered them head to toe. Buffy blinked a few times, and she could see the dust start to settle. Both girls looked like they’d just jumped into Willy Wonka’s chocolate river.

“This is _all_ your fault!” Buffy shrieked, “now what am I going to add to my compote?”

“I don’t know, nutmeg?” Natalie offered, shrugging, “they’re generally used in the same types of foods,”

“That’s,” Buffy paused, brushing off her apron, “right. Thanks,” she mumbled, turning her attention back to her cupcakes. She started to empty out the center with an apple corer, and then set them aside. She added a dash of nutmeg to her cranberry concoction, and mixed it a little to make sure that it was evenly incorporated. Maybe this wouldn’t be such a disaster.

“Bakers!”

That was never a good sign.

“I really like a drink to go with my cupcakes, don’t you?” Drew mused, glancing over at Veronica, “I think I’d like a drink with these cupcakes. We’d like you to make a citrusy drink for us, your choice of fruit,”

“Seriously?” Andi mumbled, rushing over to the stand of citrus and grabbing a few limes. Because peaches and limes went together. . .right? Pushing her doubts aside, she sliced the limes in half and started to squeeze them into a small pitcher.

“All of a sudden, I love grapefruits,” Jonah beamed, grabbing a few of his spares and squeezing them too.

TJ was probably the luckiest of them all; lemonade was the holy grail of citrus drinks. It was the easiest one in the book. Cyrus meandered over to his station, tapping on the table a few times. “Do you mind if I take a few?”

TJ looked up, meeting his eyes. They were a deep brown, with thin curves of gold swirled throughout. “Oh, uh, yeah, totally,” he fumbled, pushing a few towards the other boy and trying to refocus on his work. He blinked a few times, exhaling slowly. Things were going to be fine.

* * *

“Too much sugar,” Gus mumbled to himself, turning down the speed of the mixer. He added a bit more butter, and then sped up the paddle to try and make a smooth buttercream. While it was moving, he added a touch of yellow food coloring to try and match the color of the bananas. He’d opted to make a nut cake with a banana filling, and an allspice buttercream frosting. Unfortunately, none of that plan seemed to be going well. The nuts had burned in the oven because he’s toasted them for too long. The banana filling was far too sweet, and the buttercream was not the right shade of yellow.

“Just thirty minutes left bakers!”

Kids scrambled to get things done and decorated, but although they were stressed, it was nearly silent in the room, safe for a few footsteps. Even the judges noticed it was eerily quiet, seeing all the laser concentration on their faces, and they exchanged glances.

Cyrus’ hands were shaking as he spooned the jam into the center of all the cupcakes. Out of the corner of his eye, he could see TJ plating, his tongue stuck out of his mouth in concentration. It was endearing, and kind of cute if he really thought about. He tried not to dwell on it wrong. TJ was some stranger that he was going to know for a few weeks at most, and then they would part ways for the rest of their lives.

He was so caught up in his reverie that he hardly heard the judges start to count down from ten. Hands shaking, he dolloped the frosting on the top; yeah, it was messy, but at least it was there. Curse TJ for having such an attractive smile.

“And hands up! Great job everyone!”

People stepped back from their stations, hands in the air, all with varying degrees of success. They were all ushered back into the back room where they could relax and wind down.

* * *

“That was stressful,” Cyrus sighed, plopping himself down on the couch, “I don’t think I ever wanna make cupcakes ever again,”

TJ took a seat by him, resting his arm along the edge of the couch. “Oh, c’mon, that wasn’t so bad,” he insisted, offering a small smile.

“Says you, lemon boy,” Cyrus shot back, a wide grin on his face.

“Lemon boy?”

“Yeah, you know? You had to use lemons today,” he pointed out, as if it were the most obvious thing in the world.

“Huh. I like that. Lemon boy. There’s a new nickname,” he mused, tilting his head back, “I’m just glad we have tomorrow off from production,”

“We do?” Andi piped up.

TJ nodded. “I heard the producers talking. We have the day off tomorrow, and then we’re back to baking on Monday. We can basically just sit here. I don’t think they’re letting us out to meander around,”

Jonah frowned. “Darn. I was really hoping we could all go to, like, a park or something,” he wished, crossing his legs.

“We can all hang out in here, I guess. Get to know each other better?” Natalie suggested, looking around the room.

Buffy scoffed, crossing her arms. “I’m here to win, not to make friends,” she insisted, “I’m going to focus on making sure all my techniques are perfect,”

TJ blinked a few times in Cyrus’ direction, as if to say ‘is she for real?’. Cyrus merely chuckled, shaking his head.

“. . .okay,” Andi mumbled, trailing off, “This room should be free tomorrow. We could all play games or something,”

They agreed to meet up in the room tomorrow morning. They’d meet down at the lobby of their hotel, and all walk to the building.

* * *

Soon, the judges started to call back the kids, one by one, to present their cupcakes. When it was Gus’ turn, he shakily walked out there, willing himself not to cry. His cupcakes were dry, the nuts were burned, and his citrus drink was way too sweet. His feet were tapping as they spoke, nearly running back into the room and dissolving into tears. The other kids didn’t really know what to do to try and comfort him, so they just tried to tell him that things were going to be okay.

“Cyrus, you’re up,” a man called, waving his hand.

“You got this,” TJ mumbled, clapping him on the back and watching him leave. Andi turned towards him, a knowing look on her face. “What?”

“Nothing. You and Cyrus are getting close,” she noted softly, playing with the fringes on the pillow.

“I. . .guess,” he stammered, hesitating with his words, “as close as people competing can get, I suppose,”

Jonah shook his head, his thin lips quirking up into a small smile. “You guys are already closer than any of us,” he noted.

TJ crossed his arms, frowning. “Shut up,” he snapped, standing up, “stop trying to analyze us,” he grumbled, walking out of the small room, and down the hallway. He was probably up next anyways for judging, so there was his made up excuse. Why did they feel the need to intervene into his relationships? He shook his head; not relationship, per se, but, well, interaction with Cyrus. Rounding the corner, he nearly collided with the other boy, running on his way out.

“Hey, how did it-” he started, before he noted Cyrus’ expression. His head was low, his hands trembling, and his breath coming in short bursts. “Cyrus, what’s wrong?”

Cyrus shook his head, scrubbing away any tears that started to fall. “Nothing, nothing, everything’s fine,” he lied, looking down at his shoes.

“Did they not like it? I thought your filling was really good,” TJ assured him, rocking back on his heels.

Cyrus shook his head harder, leaning against the wall. “I basically burned the cupcakes, and then the lemonade wasn’t good either and-” he paused, coughing to try and rid his throat of a sob that formed.

TJ peered around; he didn’t see anyone, save for a camera guy further down, who was polishing his equipment. Taking a step forward, he tugged Cyrus away from the wall, and opened his arms. “C’mere,”

Almost hesitantly, Cyrus eyed TJ. He didn’t look like he was going to step back and yell ‘psych!’ at any point or turn and run. He just looked. . .warm and inviting, like a fresh plate of cookies out of the oven. Cyrus, against all his body’s pleas, leaned forward and pressed his body against TJ’s chest. He squeezed his eyes tight, the tension in his body melting away as soon as TJ wrapped his arms around him. All the stress and the ache of the recent judging seemed to completely slip his mind.

“You’ll make it through to the next week,” TJ murmured, as Cyrus pulled back, “you have to. Who am I going to count on for great ideas?”

Cyrus scoffed, shaking his head lightly. “You have a brain up there,” he noted, “you’re a good baker, TJ,”

“Thanks, I-”

“TJ?” one of the ladies with a clipboard burst into the hallway, causing the boys to jump apart, “you’re up,”

Cyrus mustered a weak smile, giving TJ’s hand a squeeze. “Go get ‘em,” he whispered, before walking back. TJ stared in a trance, and the lady by him had to clear her throat to snap him out of his daze.

* * *

The remaining kids were herded into the room after the judging, and the nervous in the room seemed to be heightened. TJ, being a few inches taller than Cyrus, peered slightly down, and could see that every part of him was trembling; his hands tapped against his pants, his lower lip was wobbling, and not a hair on his head looked like it was staying still. As if by instinct, TJ reached down and gave his hand a squeeze, keeping his gaze on the judges so as not to attract attention.

“Bakers. This week we asked you to create two dozen cupcakes with a filling with a chosen ingredient. We also asked you to create a citrus inspired drink,” Veronica started, “now let’s start with the good news. One baker did a _truly_ outstanding job with their creation.”

“And that baker is. . .Andi!”

Kids smattered their hands together, a few of them patting her shoulder and mumbling ‘good jobs’. Buffy just crossed her arms, blowing out a puff of air. She looked almost. . .a touch afraid, according to TJ, but he didn’t say anything. He waited as the judges rattled off the names of the other kids that were safe. Him, Natalie, Buffy, and Jonah. His heart sunk when he didn’t hear Cyrus’.

“And that leaves Cyrus and Gus. Please step forward,” Drew said softly, nodding.

“Boys, you both had problems with this challenge. Gus,” Veronica started, “your cupcakes were overbaked, and the nuts were burned. Your drink was too bitter, and the color of your frosting was unappealing,”

Gus nodded shakily, staring down at his feet.

“And Cyrus,” Drew began, “while we commend you for using the strawberries when you couldn’t taste them, the filling was a bit too sweet. And the tops of your cupcakes were burned,”

Cyrus held his breath. He wanted to cry; to just turn around and start crying, but he knew he couldn’t. He tried to focus on small details; Drew’s shoes were untied. Veronica had a small clip in her hair. TJ was behind him and was probably silently cheering him on.

“It always is a shame to lose one of you so early,” Veronica admitted, rubbing the side of her arm, “but the baker that will not be moving on is. . .Gus. I’m so sorry,”

Cyrus felt the oxygen return to his lungs, his brain on autopilot for a moment. He reached over and pulled Gus into a hug, whispering mindless nothings about how he was a great competitor and how he should continue to bake. The other bakers joined him, wrapping him up in a group hug. Looking, Cyrus could just barely make out a small smile on TJ’s face amidst all the chaos. Once the cameras shut off and someone yelled ‘cut!’, Gus was swept away for his exit interview. The rest of kids shuffled into the group room, taking their respective seats on the chairs and couches.

“Two down, five more to go,” Buffy hummed, pulling her hair up into a bun.

“Do you _ever_ think of anything other than winning?” Jonah deadpanned, shaking his head.

“That depends, do you think of anything other than frisbee?” she countered, pointing a finger.

Jonah rolled his eyes. “Whatever,” he mumbled, trying to drop the bickering.

TJ and Cyrus exchanged looks, chuckling.

“I told you that you’d be safe,” TJ promised him, offering a soft smile.

Cyrus nodded slowly, breathing out slowly. “Thank you for. . .you know. Being there. Means a lot,”

“Of course,” he smiled, “so tomorrow, you wanna, maybe, hang out with me?. . . and whoever else wants to join,” he tacked on.

“Totally! I can’t wait,”

 _Me neither_ , TJ thought.


	3. Day Off

Cyrus woke up the next morning to his alarm going off. Blindly, he draped an arm atop the nightstand and winced, shutting off the noise. He squinted at the clock; 7:30. Too early to bother anybody, he supposed. He’d forgotten to turn off his alarm, considering they weren’t shooting today, and there was no way he was going to be able to fall back asleep. He rolled and grabbed his phone, scrolling mindlessly through his Instagram feed. He really missed seeing his friends, even if it was only for a little while. Suddenly he wished he had TJ’s number so he could text him.

He lay in bed for a little while longer, thinking of possible things to do that day. He had a deck of cards in his bag, which would probably be good for a little while. He figured people would meet him in the lobby when they were ready, so he didn’t bother waiting. Cyrus slowly got out of bed, and made his way to the bathroom to get ready for the day. He changed into a pair of sweatpants and a Queen shirt before he snatched the cards and his phone from his bag.

The hotel was silent, save for a few clinks downstairs, probably from the breakfast crew. He padded down the hallway, nearly missing the elevator on the way there. He was alone in the elevator, thankfully, tapping his fingers to the beat of the soft music that was playing. Once the doors opened on the lobby floor, he stepped out, and made a right towards the set of couches. He swore he almost choked on his own spit when he rounded the corner.

TJ was sitting there, hair styled in a way that could only be described as a rat’s nest, and thick-rimmed glasses perched on the bridge of his nose.

Cyrus didn’t think he’d ever seen something so pretty in a long time.

 

“Hey,” he said with a wave, snapping TJ out of whatever haze he was in.

“Oh, hey,” he mumbled, scooting over to one side of the couch, “why are you here so early?”

Cyrus laughed at that, taking a seat and sinking into the couch. “I could ask you the same thing,” he pointed out, his gaze flitting from TJ to the fading pattern of the couch.

“I couldn’t sleep,” TJ said lamely, picking at the skin by his thumb, “what about you?”

“I. . .forgot to turn off my alarm,” he admitted, to which TJ broke out into laughter. His laugh was interrupted by snorts, but he couldn’t help himself. _Must be really sleep deprived_ , Cyrus thought.

“Sorry that’s-” he wiped away a tear, a grin still plastered on his face, “that’s hilarious,”

“Alright, laugh it up,” Cyrus teased, giving him a light shove, “at least I _got_ some sleep,”

TJ yawned, as if to prove Cyrus’ point. “Yeah, okay,” he chuckled, shaking his head, “I don’t think the others are going to be awake for a while. You wanna do something? We can hang out in my room, if you want. My mom went out for coffee with some of the other parents,”

Cyrus felt his insides light up; TJ wanted to hang out with him? “Oh, uh, yeah, that sounds. . .good,” he stammered, attempting to put together a coherent sentence.

TJ smiled, standing up and nodding in the direction of the elevator. “Hope you’re ready for me to bore you to death,”

Cyrus rolled his eyes; what a false statement. He reached for the elevator button, but TJ has the same idea, their fingers brushing each other’s gently. Cyrus froze, hand still hovering by the button before he pressed it. It felt like he and TJ were standing outside the doors forever, but eventually they opened.

“So,” TJ broke the silence, clicking one of the buttons, “what do you wanna do?”

Cyrus shrugged, leaning back against the handle. “I have cards, if you wanna play,” he offered, and he was greeted with silence, “or. . .we could do something else,”

The doors opened at TJ’s floor, and the two of them stepped out. TJ fished the key card out of his pocket and swiped it to unlock the door. He leaned against the frame of the door. “You’re interesting,” he pointed out, opening the door, “I like that,”

Before Cyrus could even begin to form a reply to that, TJ was talking again.

“By which I mean, I want to get to know you better,” he clarified, taking a seat on the bed, and making room for his guest.

Cyrus raised a brow at that; nobody was ever that direct with trying to get to know him. He slowly walked towards him, taking a seat on the edge of the bed and bringing his knees into his chest. “Well, what do you wanna know?”

“That depends, what do you wanna tell me?”

Cyrus sighed, pulling out his phone. “If you’re going to be difficult,” he mumbled, tapping a few times before he let a small smile tug at his lips, “here,” he said, handing TJ his phone.

“A hundred and one things to ask to get to know someone,” he read, barking a laugh, “yeah, okay, let’s go with this,”

Cyrus smiled, feeling a little more at ease. He could do this for a little while.

* * *

“Alright, first question,” TJ started, using his announcer voice, and Cyrus couldn’t help but laugh, “let’s start with something light. If you didn’t need to sleep to survive, what would you do?”

“Hm,” he hummed. Not exactly what he was expecting. “I guess. . .probably just watch YouTube videos, or documentaries,” he supplied lamely, ending it with a shrug.

“What kind of documentaries?”

Cyrus was surprised TJ even cared. “Mostly one about dinosaurs,”

TJ smiled. “That’s cool,” he said, “I think I’d just, like, take walks. It sounds weird, but there’s nothing like a walk at two in the morning,”

 _What an ungodly hour_ , Cyrus thought to himself, offering a soft smile. “That’s not weird,” he corrected him, “I’d never thought about that. Probably because I end up falling asleep before midnight pretty much every single day,”

“Next question,” TJ continued, “When was the last time you climbed a tree?”

Cyrus bit down on his lip, trying to suppress a giggle. “I uh, I’ve never actually. . .climbed a tree,”

TJ nearly dropped the phone, his eyes bugging out of his head. “Are you serious?” he squawked, to which Cyrus nodded, “you’re missing out, dude. It’s so much fun! You can see so many things when you get up higher,”

Cyrus put his hand up awkwardly. “Afraid of heights,”

TJ laughed, slapping a hand on his forehead. Cyrus expected that; a lot of people laughed when he admitted his fears. “I didn’t mean like climb a forty foot tree, Cyrus. I meant, like, ten feet,”

“Right, that’s just so much better,” he teased, “when’s the last time you climbed a tree?”

TJ grinned, remembering the day. “I think I was in, like, middle school. My buddy Lester and I were hanging out and we tried to see who could climb the highest,” he said proudly.

“And let me guess,” Cyrus began, “like the athlete that you are, you won,”

“Actually. . .” he trailed, hesitating a little, “I got a little overconfident and tried to skip a branch, so I fell and broke my arm,”

“You fell out of a tree? What are you, like, an acorn?” Cyrus laughed at his own quote. He expected TJ to look at him with a confused face, but instead he lit up.

“You like Dear Evan Hansen?” he asked quietly, excitement brimming.

Cyrus stared at him for a second, blinking once. “I. . .you know it?”

“Of _course_ I do, man! It’s one of my favorite musicals,” he exclaimed, shaking his head, “not many people in my day to day life know about it, so I’m glad you’re here,”

 _I’m glad you’re here_. Cyrus must have repeated those words in his head a few dozen times before he said anything. “Next question,”

“What’s something that a lot of people are obsessed with, but you don’t get the hype?”

And at the same time, both boys cried out, “Duck faces!”

Cyrus laughed so hard he snorted, not even bothering to feel embarrassed. “We really are the same people,” he chuckled, carding a hand through his hair.

“Okay, okay, let’s find some less superficial questions,” he smiled, scrolling down the list, “what’s the dumbest thing you’ve done that actually turned out well?”

Cyrus froze. He knew the answer to the question; he didn’t even have to think about it. But. . .the thought of saying something now? TJ probably saw that he was visibly uncomfortable, so he put the phone down, placing a hand on the other boy’s knee.

“Are you okay? You don’t have to answer that, I can pick another-”

“-no it’s alright,” he said through gritted teeth, taking in a deep breath. He supposed it was now or never. “I, um, well at my Bubbe’s funeral, I was showing one of my friends all the different foods, because he didn’t know them, and then I just. . .” he paused, shutting his eyes, “and then I just blurted out that I was gay,”

He really wishes his life was movie that moment; he wanted some sort of music playing in the background, filling the silence. TJ didn’t move his hand from his knee, so at the very least, he wasn’t disgusted, which was nice. He was really starting to enjoy his company.

“Did he take it well?” he asked softly, and at that Cyrus looked up. TJ had the softest expression on his face, almost like he was too afraid to pry.

Cyrus’ lips twitched a little, almost into a smile. “Oh, yeah. He was like ‘okay, cool’ and then proceeded to continue to ask me about the food,”

TJ smiled, a pensive expression crossing his face. “I know we don’t know each other that well, and it feels like I just met you but. . .thanks. For trusting me enough to say that,”

Cyrus nodded, feeling the tension melt from his body. His shoulders visibly relaxed, and he felt like he could cry tears of joy.

“I, uh, this is probably the least creative time to say this but,” he paused, puffing out a breath, “I’m gay too,”

Cyrus swore he had the air knocked out of him right then and there. “ _What_?”

TJ laughed, pushing his hair back. “Does that come as a surprise to you?”

Immediately, Cyrus felt his cheeks burn, embarrassed at his question. “No! I just. . .I don’t know I-”

“-didn’t expect me to be gay,” TJ finished with a tiny smile, “it’s okay. I mean, I don’t go around flaunting it. It’s more like ‘oh yeah by the way’, that kind of thing,”

Cyrus nodded, his head pounding. “. . .thanks for telling me,” he mumbled, meeting his gaze. _TJ has really nice eyes_ , he thought, _you could get lost in them if you aren’t careful._

TJ didn’t look away from him. Damn, he’d only been here for, what, a week? And he was already falling for one of the competitors. His gaze swept across Cyrus’ features; his cheeks were so red right now, and he wanted to just reach out and cup his face, but that would be weird.

 _Ding_!

The noise of Cyrus’ phone caused both boys to jolt a little, the soft moment between them gone.

“It’s Andi,” Cyrus mumbled, swiping it unlocked, “she says people are waiting downstairs to hang out,”

TJ nodded, clearing his throat. As both of them got up and started to make their way downstairs, he couldn’t stop replaying the time they spent together. Maybe, _just maybe_ , things might be different this time.

**Author's Note:**

> follow me on tumblr @you-get-to-exhale-now-cyrus for any news about this fic! :)


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